Jack Frost - (Almost) A Normal Kid
by suzukeii
Summary: In this fanfiction, Jack Frost is, well, almost a normal kid. He goes to school, lives with his grandparents, listens to Hall and Oates, the usual. Except... he controls the power of ice and snow, but no-one knows. Anyway, he meets a nice girl, blah, blah, blah... they become friends, yada, yada, yada... and so on. I haven't actually watched the movie. All rights to whomever.
1. Chapter 1 - The Beginning

_ See that kid over there? The _weird_ looking one, with the white hair, piercing blue eyes, and black sweatshirt. Leaning against the brick school wall, looking, well, "fly", as some might say. Headphones on, listening to god knows what kind of music._

_That's me._

* * *

_ Based on my looks, you wouldn't expect me to live with my grandparents, love my cousins from Alaska, or listen to singers such as Aretha Franklin or Skeeter Davis. Living for over a hundred years, with far more people ignoring you than not, you tend to lose track of fashions. Until one day, one unforgettable, unpredictable day, my whole idea of my supposed generation changed._

She hadn't been looking where she'd been going, that was for sure. I hadn't been bothering to look up, either, from my, er... Walkman. Heh. I'd been listening to the Beatles, minding my business, barely listening to the sounds of kids slipping on the newly frozen ground (my own doing, thank you very much), when the next thing I knew - I was on the ground, my right forearm almost blinding me with pain, a girl with long chestnut hair sprawled out face down on the ice, her folders and notebooks scattered around. Thankfully, she quickly sat up, only disoriented, and gathered her things, including a pair of glasses that had nearly been shattered on the ice. She placed them back on the bridge of her well-freckled nose, slightly askew. I also sat up soon, helping her get her far-off books and such. My forearm felt as though it were on fire. She glanced over at me, cradling my damaged arm, sympathy and concern obvious in her expression. Also remorse. No surprise there.

"Are you all right?" she questioned nervously, her gaze resting on my arm. Her bright blue eyes probed my face for any emotion, but I had trained myself well in the art of "non-open bookness", as my uncle would say.

"I'm fine," I replied, ironically wincing as I said this. So much for the training.

"I'll take you to the nurse," she said, with no questions asked. "Here, Olivia, may you bring my school things to my locker?" she asked, directing her question to a dark-haired girl nearby. The girl nodded in assent and immediately took the books, leaving for the school's side entrance.

"I'm _fine_," I repeated with emphasis. _Yeah, right, _I thought to myself. _Lying through your teeth to someone who barely met you._

"Yeah, right," she said, rolling her eyes while echoing my thoughts. "Thanks for lying to someone who'd just met you. Really great first impression." Upon saying this, she stood up with surprising speed and agility, pulling me up with her. "Let's go."

The trip to the nurse's office was relatively short, though punctuated by remarks from the girl.

"Doesn't even know when he's hurt...needs to learn when to give up trying to be cool...not even grateful for my help..." she muttered under her breath, dragging me through the winding hallways of the school. I thanked my lucky stars when we approached the nurse's office, predicting an end to the verbal assault.

"What happened now, Audrey?" the nurse inquired of the girl. I kept my eyes down, averting them from the glare of the adult. And Audrey's, too. They spoke quickly, Audrey giving a play-by-play of the event. I didn't listen, and my body was a robot when the nurse brought me into the small room that held the beds for students. Does that hurt? I nod. Drink this water. I drink it. Roll up your sleeve. I roll it up, revealing a beautifully discoloured spot stretching from just below my elbow to just above my wrist. Though they try to be discreet, it's difficult to miss the sharp intake of breath at the sight. I still wasn't paying attention, for my mind was off in another world, deep in thought. _Audrey. That's a nice name. She has pretty hair, too. And eyes. And cute freckles, too. She has a nice smile, _I thought later on, though her expression at the time consisted more of a grimace.

I wake up from my reverie a few moments later. Audrey is sitting next to me on the edge of the bed, at almost an intimate distance. She is watching me, me with my glazed over look and my now bandaged arm. The same expression of concern is on her face, and when I see her I feel as though I'm cared about. She notices that I am staring at her, while she watches me. She blushes slightly and gets up to leave, nearly out of the door when she turns around to face me.

"I hope you feel better. You're probably lucky, though, that I was the one who'd bumped into you." She smirked at this comment of hers.

"My name's Jack. Jack, um, Frost," I said hesitantly, not sure of what her reaction might be. Thankfully, this information did not faze her.

"Well, nice to meet you, Jack. I'm Audreline Bonnie Parker, but I prefer Audrey over all that nonsense and gibberish," she chirped airily with a false British accent, swishing her hand back and forth in a royal fashion. Honestly, it was quite difficult to stifle the chuckle of mine that followed her act. "Goodbye! We shall meet again some other time!" She waved to me with a flourish and departed just as the bell rang for the next class period.

"Yeah, bye," I barely whispered back, having zoned out again but with the faint glimmer of a smile still on my face. I was certainly planning on taking her up on her offer.


	2. Chapter 2 - Getting to Know My Friends

Ouch. Somehow, between writing in English and note-taking in Social Studies, I'd gotten my arm to feel more like a wreck than before. Ow. The table. Ow. My desk. Ow. The textbook. Now the real fun begins. It is time to see what shall await me in the cafeteria.

Students were swarming the lunchroom, finding groups of friends, as teachers attempted to round them up. I found a large enough hiatus in the throng of people to squeeze through _without_ hurting my arm further. Today was "seat-switching" day, but I didn't need to bother looking for anyone. I had no friends here. My usual table consisted of the nerds and other outcasts of the school. Until now.

"Jack! Jack! Over here!" came a familiar voice. I spun on my heels to end face-to-face with her. _How had she gotten here so quickly? I swear her voice was from nearly the opposite side of the cafeteria!_ "How are you, my newly found friend, who owes me a debt of gratitude for my help earlier?" Audrey asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Well, I've definitely been better," I groaned, with a bit of a yawn in there, too. I noticed that she had come to me flanked by two of her friends. She must have seen what little curiosity possible could have been in my expression, so she answered my unasked questions.

"Oh, these are my friends, Olivia Yu and Brian Ridgeway," she hastily explained, gesturing to her quiet companions. Olivia was familiar to me from this morning, with her ebony-black hair and olive complexion. I did not know Brian, but his athletic build gave him the impression of literally towering over you. His dark skin marked him of African-American descent. They both silently nodded in assent, the only acknowledgment given to me from them being small smiles. "C'mon, you'll be sitting with us from now on," Audrey continued, pointing to a table in the corner of the cafeteria. "_If _that's okay with you," she said, emotions such as guilt from not asking my permission first and hopefulness for my compliance quickly changing across her face.

"_Sure_, I'll sit with you," I replied with mock arrogance and indignation. She snickered under her breath at my answer, and I followed my three peers to their - _our_ table.

I began to learn more about my recently annexed friends, to delve deeper into their mystifying personalities, and to "learn about the magic of friendship" (which, by the way, against all of my suspicions, has absolutely nothing to do with ponies) by sitting there with them at lunch, day after day. We grew to fondly sharing our hilarious memories of the day, the absolute ghastliness of Brittany, the head cheerleader, getting braces, and occasionally, boring homework assignments. We probably sounded like a giggling group of second-grade girls every once in while to our neighbouring tables. One assignment in particular was extremely interesting - our lab partner choosing in science. Each pair could have one girl and one boy, unless there were some odd kids out. This obviously led to the "Ooooo"'s of our classmates when a new pair was assigned, not exempting the four students in our little group. My guardian (heh, heh, reference) angel must have looked out for all of us that day, because I was paired up with Audrey, and Olivia and Brian were paired up together. Supposedly, though, Olivia and Brian make a great team for school work and get everything done before any other group has planned out their work. I had hoped that our pair would be finished soon, also, you know, with a decent grade. My lucky stars must have also shined upon me that fateful day we'd gotten our grades back, because - Woo hoo! **A**!


	3. It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Of _course_ it's the most wonderful time of the year. At least for me.

Snow and ice, they just give me that extra, you know, energy or something. Well, you're right, I _do_ make it snow. Or hail. Or rain freezing rain. Not to sound sadistic at all, but hearing that glorious sound of a snowball smacking into someone does have its joys. Whenever I feel like having a break from school, I'll just dump a bunch of snow on the town so that they'll cancel it. My favourite pastime? Making snowmen/snow sculptures, second only to snowball fights. I have to admit, not bragging, that I'm pretty good.

I had done so on a snow day (nudge, nudge, inconspicuous wink) when I heard someone walking up to me. My back was to them, and I didn't really feel like turning around and away from my current masterpiece in progress - Emanuel Gottlieb Leutze's "Washington Crossing the Delaware". A miniature, for looking at when I made the real thing. The _actual size _real thing. Like, the size _of the people_. Anyway, I'd thought it was just the mailman, but when whoever it was stopped behind me, I was curious and nervous at the same time. I glanced at the stranger's feet to get a clue, without turning my head. No, no help at all. Just plain black winter boots. Plain black snowpants. Okay, it was a kid. I looked back to my creation; it was nearly finished. Just another couple of touch ups on the flag...

The stranger cleared their throat loudly, getting my attention. They certainly had something to say. I was prepared to get right in their face, expecting a kid from school to taunt me about who knows what now. Quick as a flash, I stood up and spun around to face my visitor. They backed up, startled, and then fell into a snow drift. Okay, so, they weren't hurt. That was good. I took a couple tentative steps toward them (their face was still over halfway covered with a thick red scarf), because they weren't moving, and their eyes were closed. I couldn't recognise them from five feet up (maybe that's a bad sign), so I leaned in closer. As soon as I was basically standing directly over them, my feet in easy reach, a hand shot out and grabbed my ankle. The person pulled my leg up so that I would fall over backwards. I was too good for them though, so I... oh, wait, no, I _did_ fall. Heh. The kid started laughing, now with a distinctly feminine tone, and I couldn't help but join in after landing beside them in the snow. She got up, still laughing, while I was left on the snow pile, all the wind knocked out of me. Which isn't a pleasant feeling, if you didn't know.

The girl pushed down her scarf off of her face. I suddenly recognised her.

"Hi, Jack!" Audrey chirruped. "I thought you could use a little company on this boring, lonely snow day," she said, explaining her sojourn to my house. "Olivia's busy with something, but if I could use your house phone to call Brian, that would great. _If_ that's okay with you," she hastily added, reminding me of the first time we had sat together at lunch.

"Sure, whatever," I said, still gasping for air. I was really too focused on my surprise (since she hadn't been wearing any glasses), getting my breath back, and the fact that I had nearly destroyed my snow sculpture whilst falling and laughing. "It's in the kitchen. If you see my either of my grandparents, tell them that you're a friend of mine."

"Okey-dokey," she replied, seemingly oblivious to my degradation of image of coolness, as I was still gasping like a fish out of water. "Oh, yeah," she called as she walked to my front door. "Just remember to breathe in and out slowly. Getting the wind knocked out of you means causing 'a spasm in your diaphragm. That means this muscle contracts — or gets tense — instead of doing its usual thing to help you breathe'. Quoted from a kid's health website. Yeah, I have a lot of free time," Audrey added after seeing the incredulous look on my face. No one memorises things like that. Not in 6th grade.

I followed her instructions and definitely felt better sooner. I turned back to my project, thankfully unscathed. I began fixing minute but important details for the completed full-scale model. I nearly beheaded James Monroe when a sharp cry of "He's coming soon!" interrupted my concentration. Audrey jumped down the steps and jogged towards where I was sitting.

"C'mon, Audrey, I can't believe it! You almost made me accidentally decapitate the 5th president of the United States!" I joked. "But really," I continued, turning serious, "we may not have resolved border disputes with Britain from the War of 1812, articulated the Monroe Doctrine, or acquired Florida from Spain." She smiled at this, for it was what we had learned in Social Studies recently.

"We would have gotten Florida, anyway," Audrey said matter-of-factly. "Those Spaniards don't have _nothing_ on us." She said this last comment in an odd Southern drawl. Something about this made us collapse into the snow, laughing. Made us forget about everything else. Made the sound of Brian's mom's car inaudible as they drove up the street.

**One Epic Snowball Fight, One Snow Sculpture Contest, and 3 Cups of Hot Chocolate Later**

Yeah, it was fun that day. It was one of those times where you don't realise what you're missing out on until you get it. For me, fun. And company. After the contest, we all worked on my Washington snow sculpture - and once we'd finished, I was sure that Leutze would have been proud. I know I was.


	4. Chapter 4 - Meet the Frosts

**Sorry that I haven't been able to post another chapter in a while... ("A ****_while_****?" I scoff at myself.) I ran out of inspiration, which, strangely, only comes to me now when I'm trying to fall asleep at night.**

"Bon matin, ma petite chou (**1**)," my grandmother cooed at me. My eyes fluttered open; streams of sunlight shone through my open window. I glanced at my clock - eight forty-five. Not too bad, but I did sleep in.

"Bon matin, grand-mère (**2**)," I replied groggily. I got up from my bed to go get changed into clothes as my grandmother left the room to cook breakfast. I trudged over to the closet, yawning often, and opened it. It was full of petticoats and frilly dresses. I hastily shut the door and took a look at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a dress, too. My hair seemed to have grown to shoulder length and was rather curly, as well as blond. And, I hate to admit it, but I was _short_. Like, little kid short. I think I was a girl, too, but I seemed to have no problem with that. I looked out of the window to see a large field of grass and quite a few trees in the foreground. Under those trees were kids, dressed in Tom Sawyer overalls and hats, reading books. I climbed out of the window, only to fall about 15 feet, landing on top of a car without breaking any bones. I surveyed my surroundings now to find myself smack-dab in the middle of some sci-fi action movie with robotic beetles the size of a full grown man shooting at everyone and everything. Thankfully, when I peered down to see what I was wearing, it was the dress anymore. However, it _was_ a clown costume. I was also equipped with an M16 assault rifle, along with more than a "hand"ful of hand grenades. See what I did there?

I really let 'er rip on the oncoming hordes of mechanical bugs, which were now joined by legions of zombies that had supposedly swarmed the city. _I _was now joined by three other clowns. We ducked under the crumbling ruins of a building to hide from the army while still shooting. The small crevice collapsed and we all died from either being crushed or slowly from asphyxiation because of the heavy amount of dust. I woke up.

* * *

"Good morning, sunshine, " my grandmother cooed at me. My eyes fluttered open; streams of sunlight shone through my open window. I glanced at my clock - eight forty-five. Not too bad, but I did sleep in. _Pause._ Meet my grandmother. Blue eyes, light grey, curly hair, always wears a headscarf, and the sweetest old lady you could ever meet. Also the best chef. _Play._

"Good morning, Grandma," I replied groggily. I got up from my bed to get changed into clothes as my grandmother left the room to cook breakfast. I trudged over to the closet, yawning, often, and opened it. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, my staple of outfits, and changed, speeding up the process soon after catching a whiff of breakfast - scrambled eggs, pancakes, and, no doubt, an Empire apple (my favourite).

"N'oublie pas (**3**)," my grandfather began as I sat down to a delicious meal, "il fait froid. Mets un blouson avant de sortir. (**4**)" He peered at me over the top of the newspaper he was reading. He shook his head slightly as he watched me gobble down all of my food. "Manger plus lentement, Jaques. (**5**)"

"Je sais, je sais. (**6**)" I didn't slow down, resulting in a chuckle from Grandpa. _Pause. _Meet my grandfather. Ah, _rotund_, shall we say, snow white hair with a beard to match, glasses, twinkling eyes, rosy cheeks, and a personality to match. _Play._

Sorry, folks. I'd forgotten to mention just a teeny tiny little detail. My family - my grandmother, grandfather, and me - speaks mostly French at home. Grandma was born in a town called Bois-Guillaume, France. Grandpa, though born in Eufala, Alabama, traveled extensively throughout his life and met my grandmother in Switzerland during World War II. Ironically, my grandfather is the one who prefers to speak in French, though it isn't _his_ native language. Translations are located at the bottom of the page.

* * *

Every morning, I go out for a hike. Around our house. Which still really counts as a hike, because of the innumerable tree roots and rocky cliff-ish places on the path I take. No one knows about this trail except for me. And, of course, Calico, our pet cat, who enjoys excessively following me. It's nice to have something all to myself. Or _almost _all to myself.

This morning is no different. Once I get to that certain fallen log, I sit down for a breather. I take lungfuls of fresh Oregon air - trees, dirt, nature. I lie down and relax; I don't have anywhere to be now. I've always wanted to do yoga or something here, surrounded by the peaceful sounds of nature. Forgetting about the busyness and problems of life. Unfortunately, there's always that little lingering voice telling you, "What about this? What about that?" You know what? You learn to ignore it.

Translations:

1. Good morning, my little cabbage (a term of endearment such as "little one")

2. Good morning, Grandmother

3. Don't forget

4. It's cold. Put on a coat before going out.

5. Eat more slowly, Jack.

6. I know, I know.


End file.
